It had been a very long day tracking down rebels and
trying to determine where various groups of them
operated from. Really, it could give one a headache.
Xetta had been working overtime, communicating with
several contacts on encrypted comm channels. She was
tired and glanced to the wall chrono, noticing how
late it was. So, she shut down her computer, made
sure her office was neat and clean, then headed out
for a bit of relaxation. Once outside the highly
secured building, she hailed a speeder cab and
instructed the pilot to take her to one of the low
class cantinas that inhabited the the scummy
sections of the city. It did not take long before
she arrived at a place called The Dancing Bantha.
Even though the city was now firmly a bastion of the
empire, the criminal element was still intact, even
with the more stringent security measures in place.
Xetta glanced around and then entered the joint,
choosing a booth that was dark, allowing her to see
the entrance and of course to eavesdrop on the
various conversations. One never knew what they
could pick up by just listening. And, she was not
known here.

The Dancing Bantha was hardly the place one might
expend to find Claudius Rodney, an Alderaanian
noble, who had found himself drawn into the new
Imperial Navy following his service with the
Republic during the Clone Wars. In fact, as he
thought on the subject he could not even recall
being down to this low a level before. Still, the
junior officers frequented these types of
establishments and he had been attempting to earn
their respect and their trust by engaging in some of
their less than cultured social engagements. As he
took a seat in a corner table he casually ordered a
glass of Alderaanian ruge from the serving droid ...
perhaps a bit more upscale a beverage than was
likely to be ordered here ... but he was more
concerned that the glass would be unclean. As he
waited for his drink to arrive he exchanged
pleasantries with some of the junior officers that
he recognized, and did his best not to sit with a
rigid, uninviting posture. His attention shifted to
the chronometer on his wrist as he attempted to
decide how long politeness dictated he should stay.

Even her cybernetic implant was covered by an eye
patch, she could still activate it without removing
said eyepatch. She was currently scanning the rest
of the patch. She could scan for hidden weapons by
looking for power cells. Xetta was dressed in an one
black one piece outfit. That along with her eye
patch made her look like she was probably a
criminal, instead of the imperial agent she was.
While scanning, she noticed a naval officer enter
just before a serving droid rolled to her booth. She
ordered a Corellian brandy and when the droid left
to get her drink, she let her one eye rove back over
to the officer. She of course was curious about him
as she was about all military personnel. Contacts
were sometimes hard to come by and at this point in
the rebellion, she would make as many as she could.
Albeit after proper vetting of course. Xetta rose
from her darkened booth and moved to sit at a table
where she could be seen and offered a smile to the
most recent patron.

Beneath the table his feet uncomfortably kicked
against one another, as he found the new boots that
had been assigned to him as part of his new Imperial
Uniform to be very uncomfortable. Claudius was still
coming to terms with the recent changes that had
changed the state of galactic affairs beyond merely
his footwear. He had been a champion of democracy,
but the Emperor had been true to his word and ended
the war that dominated his life these past three
years. As his drink arrived he paid more attention
to the glass than what was in it, happy to see that
there were no obvious blemishes. He took in a deep
breath of air as he hoped that the drink would not
be revolting, before taking a swig of the familiar
beverage. He coughed slightly, finding it somewhat
harsh, but nevertheless palatable. It was only then
that he noticed the one eyed woman who had moved
closer without his noticing. By the looks of her he
suspected that she might be some kind of thief, but
manners dictated that he raise his glass to her and
offer a polite nod and smile in return. He would not
allow his concerns to cause him to become ill
mannered.

The serving droid went to the booth she had
previously occupied and chirped in derision until
noticing that Xetta had moved. The droid did an
about face on it's wheels and moved to her table to
set the drink in front of her. After payment was
received, it wandered off. Xetta then raised her own
glass to the officer and took a small sip of her
drink. She was close enough to him that she could
speak normally for him to hear. "So, how is the war
treating you..." She appeared to be trying to
discern his rank. "...umm...captain is it?" Of
course, she was just playing a ruse to get his
reaction.

"Not yet," Claudius replied, as his brown eyes
scanned down to his rank insignia pinned upon his
left breast ... an ever confusing series of red and
blue squares that a cadet could spend a week trying
to memorize and still come out confused. "Commander.
Commander Claudius Rodney of the Star Destroyer
Superb," he informed her, perhaps revealing too
much, but he was inexperienced with these sort of
people, and had lived a life where being discreet
had not been necessary. "As to the war ... what
little fighting remains is well out in the rim. I've
fallen into a mere administrative position here on
Coruscant. It takes a large bureaucracy to maintain
so large a fleet," he said, somewhat serious, but
with a hint of humor beneath the words. "And you
are?" he asked, not that he was particularly
interested, but this all played out as a comedy of
manners in his head with a series of questions and
answers he must deliver as a gentleman.

Xetta quirked a brow with his correction and
smiled. "Oh, please forgive my ignorance Commander."
She took another sip of her brandy, seeming to
relish it as if it were a rare treat. Right away she
could tell he had superb manners and noted the
undertone of humor in his voice. "Yes, the
government has gotten even bigger than the old
republic. So many forms to fill out and all that
stuff." Xetta leaned back in her chair and crossed
one leg over the other. "My name is Xetta and I have
a very boring job indeed. Information
procurement..." She rolled her eyes a bit. "Yeah,
boring right?" Xetta allowed a soft chuckle to
escape her lips before taking another drink.
"Anyway, what do you think of this grand
empire...hmm?"

"What kind of information can be 'procured' in a
place like this?" Claudius asked, before bringing
the glass back to his lips for a longer sip. He was
asking her, as well as himself, as his eyes studied
some of the various ne'erdowells who occupied the
Cantina. "Yes. It's an excellent time to be a
bureaucrat," he again said, with added sarcastic as
his mind quickly ran over all of the forms he had
submitted earlier that day. He relished the idea of
a promotion to Captain so that he could leave the
paperwork to a subordinate of his own. "I think they
have a horrible shoe manufacturer," he said,
regarding her question about the Empire. He was
deliberately short and vague with questions of that
manner as he had been quick to learn that saying
anything at all was risky in such times.

Her shoulders rolled into a soft shrug. "All
sorts of information can be found if one is
determined." She had looked him square in the eyes
while saying that and then rose from her table and
moved the short distance to his and sat down
opposite him. Xetta wore a wrist chrono of her own,
but this one had some added features. She was not
discreet about pushing a small button on the chrono
and after that she smiled at him. "Now we can speak
in private, Commander. I noticed all the decorations
you wear and I have decided to make you an offer.
Some one with your experience should not sit at a
desk." She quirked a brow. "So, I am going to tell
you something that you must keep secret. I'm an
Imperial agent and if you want some adventure in
your life, I can give you some." She was not really
taking any risks about giving him information, after
all, if he proved to be a separatist sympathizer,
she could have him eliminated. Xetta sat back in her
chair, knowing he would probably be very skeptical
and guarded.

As she approached the table his initial thought
was that he was about to become the victim of a
robbery, and his left hand instinctively moved to
rest atop the credit chit that was housed in the
pocket of his trousers. When she mentioned that she
was an Imperial agent his eyes widened sharply, and
he withdrew slightly, pulling away as he leaned back
against the chair to force some additional distance
between them. His right hand moved quickly to his
face as he literally attempted to wipe the shocked
expression from his 30-something visage as he
considered her words. There was part of him that
doubted her and he suspected that this could be part
of some elaborate con to either rob him or use him
in fiendish plot. "...and you can prove all this?"
he asked, after a drawn out, awkward silence. His
head tilted slightly to the left as he examined her,
as if he were some confused animal ... and in some
ways that is exactly what he was.

Xetta had been in the spy game a long time and had
expected the Commander to have a response much like
this. Of course one never knew how a person
responded when faced with such a claim. She simply
smiled and took another sip of her drink while the
Commander took it all in. She then cocked her head
to the side and studied him a bit more closely. She
was currently scanning his image via cybernetic
implant and relaying it to the intelligence
division. "Of course I can prove it." She flashed
him a brilliant smile. "You must be wondering why I
have made this offer, hmm? I mean, it is right out
of the blue, right?" She shrugged a bit. "But, there
is no danger to me. If I have assumed wrongly, then
it is no big deal. So, how to prove it hmm?" She
leaned forward a bit. "I'm assuming that you know
where the Imperial Intelligence offices are? Show up
there at 0800 tomorrow and simply ask to see Xetta.
I have already scanned your image into the data
files. Don't ask me how. Now then, would you like
another drink?" Part of her style was seeing how
potential contacts reacted to what she told them.

During the war he could not recall an encounter
with Republic Intelligence that did not leave him
feeling dirty, but naturally he would not voice such
a statement with her ... or anyone ... for that
matter. It did not make sense for him to take her
offer, but his political background had kept him
largely confined to tedious bureaucratic tasks
within the fleet and likely would make promotion
difficult. He missed his family, and had a newborn
baby, who he had only been fortunate to see for a
few short days on a brief leave. When she mentioned
'scanning' him it felt like the room's temperature
had suddenly dropped 20 degrees and he could not
hold back the shiver that caused his body to
tremble. He swallowed silently, causing his throat
to bulge against the constrictive collar of his new
uniform, forcing his right hand to immediately rush
to his neck to adjust it slightly. "Yes. Yes I know
where it is," he said, nervously, from a face that
was now decidedly pale and devoid of color. "...and
yes. I could most assuredly use another drink," he
revealed, as his left hand moved to beckon the
serving droid back to their table.

Xetta felt an odd pleasure coursing down her
spine. Something about making other people
uncomfortable caused her to feel empowered. She had
keen senses and knew the Commander was feeling very
awkward. When the droid appeared, Xetta turned to it
and rattled off a few numbers to it, before she
turned back to the Commander. "Drinks are free for
the rest of the evening. I can tell you are nervous
and I understand how you feel, truly I do. So
consider our next meeting to be an interview of
sorts. I won't go into detail here of course."
Leaning back again with a bemused expression on her
features. "If you do not like what I have to say,
then you are free to go back to your desk job.
However, if what I say piques your interest, then I
can promise you something more than shuffling flimsy
sheets. I will give you a hint though. My division
needs people who are used to intense action."

When the droid returned with the next round of
drinks he hurriedly reached for his glass, nearly
spilling it as a result of how his hand was shaking.
The first sip he took this time was much more
substantive than the first drink and by the time he
had pulled the drink from his mouth it was nearly
half finished. When she mentioned 'intense action'
it brought back vivid memories of the Battle of Skor
II ... the lone operation that he had taken part of
outside of the confines of the bridge of a warship.
He remembered being frightened at first, but as the
action increased he rose to the occasion and won
commendation for his actions that day. However,
there was no substantive follow up and most of his
career following that involved bridge duty during
the Outer Rim sieges. "You do have my attention,
Xetta," he said, after some hesitation, before
placing the glass back down in front of him. "Not
that I am dissatisfied with my current position of
service to the Empire," he quickly added, for the
sake of politics.

Xetta appeared to listen to his every word and
watch his body movements very intensely. "Service to
the empire, no matter how menial is of course to be
a source of honor." She held up her hand now to make
her next point clear. "However, we both know bantha
shit jobs when we see them." She winked. "I do
applaud your efforts in your current assignment and
of course you take pride in it." She lifted her
glass to her lips for a small sip. "Politics aside,
you would be answering to the highest levels of
authority and...well. That is all I shall say for
now. Here is what I want you to do before our
meeting. I want you to compile a list of naval
personnel that you think are loyal to the empire and
then another list of those you think are...reluctant
in their service." A cold expression briefly washed
over her features. "Dissent is not to be tolerated."

"Are you implying that are officers who are
disloyal to the Empire?" Claudius responded quickly,
taking another, perhaps obnoxious, swig from the
glass that soon resulted in the drink being
hurriedly finished. While he did drink ... like most
men of his stature in position ... he did so in
moderate, and at a slow pace. What he was doing now
was somewhat out of character, and as he was not
practiced, he found it quickly going to his head and
causing him some discomfort. The color had returned
to his face following her alarming comments, but
rather than a healthy complexion, his cheeks were
now flushed an unpleasant red. He had never 'named
names' before and the thought of looking over
personnel files and assigning loyalty or disloyalty
to the men he served with seemed decidedly
unpalatable. Is this what it would take to get ahead
in the New Order? he silently asked himself, as his
face tensed slightly, forcing him to break eye
contact with her. His hands nervously, perhaps
unconsciously, intertwined with one another as he
gently rubbed his hands.

Her expression was one of slight amusement after
hearing him. "With a military force as large as the
empire, of course there are those who have loyalties
outside it. I know for a fact that there are
separatists among the military ranks and they must
be...purged accordingly." Xetta finished her drink
and set the glass down. "Rebellion starts with one
person's ideas and then forms into a dangerous
movement. However, I do not want you to merely
compile a list of people you do not like. Rather, I
want you to use your instinct. Consider it a test if
you will. A test to see if you have what it takes to
be an asset to the Empire. If you come up with no
names, then so bit it. I demand and expect complete
honesty from you Commander. Do I make myself clear?"
Oh what a web she has now weaved. A web with no
escape?